


United

by feedmyflame



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Blood Sharing, Bloodplay, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Sex Positive, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-26 23:53:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/655768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feedmyflame/pseuds/feedmyflame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Rewrite of the 4x04 frat party.) Elena's sick of holding back. Giving in feels so much better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	United

_She tastes so good._ Better than any blood bag, better than Matt. The pulsing of the blonde's fresh blood through Elena's veins set her every nerve into overdrive; Elena closed her eyes to sink into the deliciousness of giving in, the caving to a hunger that penetrated her.

"Ok, that's enough. Elena, come on. Stop."

His voice floated somewhere just outside her consciousness, a faint murmur that mingled with the sounds of boisterous drinking games and shouting fraternity idiots. The bedroom, which Damon had compelled a half-naked couple to vacate minutes earlier, provided shelter from the revelry, but Elena took no notice of her surroundings. Her whole world was the size of two puncture wounds from which the blonde's blood was flowing.

"That's enough."

Suddenly she was gulping at air, and she panted as the pale wrist was gently pulled away from her. Damon was wrong—it wasn't enough, not by a long shot. High on blood, Elena was overcome with the urge to drain the sorority girl slumped on the beer-soaked floor, to feel the life gushing out in ugly spurts; in death, Elena wanted nothing more than to have life inside her, someone else's life, if that was all she could get. Who was Damon to get in her way?

"How dare you?" she screamed. In her fury she shoved him against the wall, fangs bared. "I WANT MORE."

Damon easily slipped her hold and sunk his fangs slowly into his wrist, pressing the blood that spilled out to the blonde's mouth. Her still frame was motionless on the floor. "Sorry to derail this temper tantrum, but if I don't heal her it'll be her funeral."

"Damon, I WANT HER TO DIE. What don't you understand? I want to KILL HER."

Satisfied that the blonde would pull through, Damon stood up and grabbed Elena's wrists, gently but with authority, and walked her backwards towards the hall where the draw of the blood wouldn't be so overwhelming. She fought him, struggling to escape his grasp. Finally out of patience, he slammed her back against the hallway wall, her arms pinned above her head.

"Listen to me," he said roughly. "You don't want to kill her."

She squirmed futilely against him, filled with rage at his reason. He wasn't going to let her go until she calmed down, but she couldn't stop the waves of fury that kept her struggling violently. She squeezed her eyes shut, letting out shrieks of impotent anger, and then through the darkness his voice, low and broken, spoke softly into her ear.

"Elena."

His hot breath sent an unexpected shiver down her spine, and in spite of herself she fell quiet, her outburst quelled. She was suddenly aware of how close they were, his body holding her against the wall, his hands still pinning hers into a posture of surrender.

"Elena."

He whispered into her ear, trying to bring her back to herself, to her humanity. To his relief he felt her relax slowly under him, and he started to pull away. But he hesitated; despite himself, he relished her nearness, the fire of her body against his, and…did he imagine it?…it felt like her hips had come forward ever so slightly into his.

"She really was delicious." Elena breathed the words quietly into the small space left between them.

He looked up to meet her eyes, and the deadened fury behind them had been replaced with a playful intensity that caught him off guard. He suddenly noticed the blood staining her face, her chin, her cheek; her feed had been messy, and though he hadn't really noticed it before, enticing notes of young blonde blood started to mingle with Elena's scent. He traced the blood's path with his eyes, and she watched him look with a heady glee.

"Go ahead," Elena murmured. His voice had brought her back to herself, but the rush of the feed still pulsed through her. She wasn't ready to abandon the transcendent ecstasy of giving in.

"Taste her."

She moved into him, watching the dizzying effect her nearness and the blood had on his self-control. She didn't need to tell him twice—the intoxicating smell banished his hesitation and he leaned in hungrily.

He paused an inch from her mouth, breathing her breath, smelling the blood trickling down her face. Slowly, he dragged his tongue across her cheek, tasting what she'd tasted, the blood that was now coursing through her re-animated veins.

Elena took a slow breath, savoring his wetness, his delicate tongue, his rough hold on her. Suddenly she wanted him, all of him, closer, closer…

"Do you want more?" It was an invitation, not a question. The words tumbled out of Elena's mouth, breathy and imperative, as if she had planned to say them all along.

Damon paused, drew back his head, but never released her from his hold.

"Are you sure?"

Slowly, with the most halting tenderness, she brought her lips up toward his.

"Yes," she mouthed, but he knew her words before she spoke them. She grazed his bottom lip with hers, barely touching, sending a jolt of electricity through his trembling frame. He heard his breath catch. Her proposal had shaken him; he was so used to feeling in control, and with one touch she had wrested it from him.

She leaned back against the wall, met his gaze, and he knew she meant it, knew she wanted him to taste the blood in her veins, to share the life that minutes earlier she had stolen from an unwitting blonde. Then she closed her eyes and raised her head slightly, and all he could see was the blood pulsing through her neck, imbued with her essence.

His hands slipped from their grip on her wrists as he slowly brushed her hair away, tangled strands on pale skin. He often dreamed of her—her smell, the feel of her skin against his—but never had he dared to dream about bloodsharing. He almost didn't want to touch her for fear of doing something wrong, something she'd regret. He couldn't be another one of her regrets. But he watched her chest rise and fall with waiting breath, shallow and ragged, and hesitatingly, he moved closer to her pale neck. And suddenly he was overcome with the smell of her skin, and the blood right beneath it, and his fangs emerged despite himself, and he closed the distance between them.

She felt his fangs, sharp and cold, gently touch her neck, not piercing yet, just grazing her soft skin, and she let out a whimper. "Damon, I can't wait, please…." But he would take his time if it killed them both. He caressed the curve of her collarbone, memorizing the valley behind it. His fingertips gently stroked her shoulder, the back of her neck, making her shiver with anticipation. Then it was too much to take, and he sunk his teeth into her, tearing through lovely flesh, and suddenly the noise of drunk revelers melted away; all he could hear was the blood gushing and Elena's small gasps. The blonde's blood, now Elena's, poured hot into his mouth, surrounding his tongue and streaming down his chin. Hungrily, desperately, he took from her the life borrowed from another; he felt so alive in her veins, pulling the still-fresh wetness inside him, and he pushed roughly against her. He grabbed her hair, that soft, lovely hair, and tugged down, giving him access to her gushing carotid, and he let his other hand wander to her waist, to her hips, to her thigh…

The blood rushed out of every corner of her shuddering form, its flow interrupted by the force of Damon's feed. She felt him pulling from every inch of her, ravenously consuming her, inside and out. She wanted to give him more; she was on fire with his closeness, dizzy with it. Every piece of her, this body that used to be human, felt once more like she belonged in it—still foreign, but no longer hostile. She let out a low moan, a dark hallelujah, and stroked his hair, pulling him into her. His fingertips barely touched her bare thigh, but the achingly gentle contact sent the strongest shocks of pleasure through her, and as she felt him come alive against her she dug her fingers into his back, greedily tearing at his shirt. Clothes suddenly seemed like such a laughable stab at modesty, and she ripped through his like so much tissue paper.

She tore at him furiously, clawing at his back, tearing fresh wounds as the old ones healed. She breathed deep and fast as his touch circled her thigh, his fangs still deep inside her. As he pulled more and more out of her, she felt him drag her up, rising waves of joy pounding through her. From the farthest reaches of herself she came alive; her veins vibrated with elation, her nerves firing spastically, and as his fingers slowly moved between her legs she felt him pull her to the edge. Poised for the fall, she gasped deeply; then with his final touch she careened over it, flying wildly in darkness as she spasmed against him. He felt her come violently, and he let himself come with her; they clutched at each other in ecstatic desperation as the blood that united them pulsed uncontrollably, and together they reveled in the savage life coursing through them both.

They stood slumped against the wall, breathing heavily of the same air, as the feeling slowly dissipated. He reached up tenderly to stroke her cheek, and felt wetness; a cold panic gripped him and he jerked his head back to see tears streaming down her face. Horror and dread overtook him.

"No, Elena…You did nothing wrong, it'll be okay. I promise, we'll make it all okay—"

But her sudden salty kiss halted his words. The blood on his lips mixed with the tears on hers as she tried to tell him everything she couldn't say, tried to communicate the overwhelming relief that glowed within her. For the first time since her death, she felt like her body was her own, like its impulses and desires were really hers. By giving in, she had given herself permission to start healing, to know herself again, to start coming to terms with her new life. For the first time she felt like she might be able to live it. Bitter self-hatred was momentarily replaced with overwhelming gratitude; with his fangs and his fingers Damon had brought her vampire self into momentary alignment with her humanity, and she could never thank him enough.

She threw her arms around his neck as she buried her face in it. Deep sobs shook her as he held her up, confused but relieved, and he heard her choke out the only two words she could muster:

"I know."


End file.
